


Rendevous

by teacherstuff556 (Teratostuff556)



Series: Teachers Need Love Too! [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Desk Sex, Fluff, Gay Sex, High School, Introspection, Lemon, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, Professors, Smut, Straight Sex, Teachers, Threesomes, Vaginal Sex, all the sex, pleasantly soft sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teratostuff556/pseuds/teacherstuff556
Summary: Perhaps an atypical highschool love story, but between teachers. Teachers need love too, especially at this highschool, where teacher liasons are common. In some cases, even the secretary has liasons!
Relationships: F/F - Relationship, F/M - Relationship, M/M - Relationship, M/M/M - Relationship
Series: Teachers Need Love Too! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103951
Kudos: 3





	1. After Class

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've been starting so many stories recently, but I felt like this one just needed to be posted. I'll be introducing more characters as the chapters progress. Bare with me if I'm slow to update. Thank you for reading!

Charles adored the way he said his last name. His french was utterly pathetic. But he was trying, he could tell that much, and for whatever sentimental reason that meant the world to him. 

"Monsieur Gérard?" he asked in a soft tone. 

Charles pushed his glasses up. They'd been sliding down his long nose as he graded papers, long, long after school was out. 

"Yes, chere?" 

"Why are you still here?" Jesse asked, placing a book down beside him on a student's desk. 

Charles chuckled softly. "Because some of us have students that do homework, Mister Stephens." 

Jesse grinned. "Drama is just more interesting than French class. We just happen to do more work in class than your class does." 

Of course Jesse was just teasing, but Charles doubted that he actually knew what he was doing to him. He often wore tight pants. Jesse wasn't helping matters at all. There was a hard ache against his thigh. Jesse was a bit of a romantic, everyone knew that. Even his students knew he was gay. Charles laughed. Of all the teachers, would they not suspect himself? He was French, Oscar Wilde was his hero, he frequently wore things so fashionable it would almost be ironic if he was  _ not _ attracted to men… 

But people were too preoccupied with thinking about the fact that Jesse Stephens was gay to even question Charles's sexuality. Or perhaps no one cared. He did not mind. 

"What are you still doing here?" Charles asked upon recalling the presence of the younger teacher. 

"I was visiting Tom, I had borrowed something from him." 

Charles bit back a smirk. Of course he would have lent him something. Jesse was slender, tall, blonde, young, charming… He was any number of things that would be attractive to someone like Tom. 

"Oui, and what did he lend you?" 

Jesse smiled nervously. "What, you don't suspect that we're having some sort of liason, do you?" 

He smiled. "No, of course not."

Jesse swallowed and loosened his tie a bit. "Good, because that would be against the rules. Romantic relationships between coworkers are…" 

"Not against the rules," he reminded him. "You know that as well as I do." 

"Regardless, he doesn't even like men, I'm pretty sure anyways." 

There was the subtle scratch of pen against paper as the young blonde pondered his statement, checking himself momentarily. Was he perhaps gay like himself? Did Mister Wade have a wife? Did that even make a difference? 

"Are you heading home soon?" Charles asked. 

"Yes, I just thought I'd say goodnight to you before I left. I was curious why you were still here," he said. 

He nodded. "I had a test on Wednesday, students are getting impatient about their results. You know how freshmen are." 

"Yes." He paused before turning sharply on his heel. "Goodnight, Charles." 

"Goodnight, Jesse." 

Not ten minutes passed before Charles was aware of another presence, looming, tall, broad. He wondered how many minutes Tom would stand in the doorway before announcing himself. Probably forever. Despite being very extroverted, the older teacher was extremely socially awkward. Maybe that came with being a history teacher. 

"Hello, Tom," Charles greeted without looking up. 

"Hey," he said. "You're here late again." 

"I had a test Wednesday." 

"Bullshit," he laughed. 

Charles flinched a bit. "Pardon?"

Tom strode a little closer. Charles could smell the cologne he was wearing - the cologne that was prohibited - he could smell his detergent, his goddamn beard oil for that perfect grey-blonde beard of his… The lingering scent of books was present too. 

"You know full well that you aren't staying late to grade. I've been to your house. Is a mess of scattered papers and books. You'd grade at home if there wasn't something that was keeping you here, Charlie." 

"What are you suggesting?" Charles asked. The use of his nickname was getting him going more than he had already been from Jesse. He twirled a finger through his golden hair, soft from his conditioner. 

"You stayed here to talk with Jess, you know that," Tom said in a soft voice, offering his hand to Charles. 

Charles stood up to meet his gaze and massaged his hand with his fingertips. "You did too." 

"Damn right I did," he said with a smirk before pressing his lips softly to the blonde's neck. 

A soft moan slipped out. "Jesse told me. He said you lent him something… I knew you wanted to see him." 

"I can't help it, feminine guys are just so…" Tom's breath was stolen away by Charles grinding his hips into his. Tom was hard too. 

"Why do you think you like me?" he laughed, threading his fingers through Tom's short, grey hair. "You obviously have a type. You're too masculine to be attracted to other bears." 

"True, true," he said, kissing Charles hungrily. 

Charles finally got fed up with the lack of physical attention he was receiving and grunted softly. "Fuck me already. Get the door." 

Tom grinned. "Yes ma'am." 

He swiftly shut the door and locked it, and upon turning around to face Charles again, he was met with the sight of Charles stripping. He was wearing a white striped shirt with a blue tie that matched the stripes, and it was baggy on him. This was not what interested him, however. It was the sight of his pale chest exposed, rose coloured buds raised from the cold, the way he palmed his erection while waiting, the way he didn't care who saw. That was what really got him off. 

"You think it'll take a while to get you loosened up?" he asked, unzipping Charles's fly. 

He moaned, bucking into his hand. "What do you think?" 

"One of those weeks, huh?" Tom chuckled and slipped Charles's cock out of his pants. 

Tom adored the way his pretty pink prick looked. Average length but not as thick, just like the rest of him. It was always flushed, soft or not. It was always nice and pink. Tom wondered if it was just for him. Part of him was possessive - the other part wanted him to sleep with Jesse so bad so he could watch. It was perverse. 

"You can say that again," he said in his soft accent. 

Most days, his accent was hardly noticeable. But when Tom had him reduced to begging and panting, his accent shone through. Tom adored it. 

Charles spread one of his legs up, bending himself against his desk. He was ready to receive. Tom wouldn't keep him waiting. 

Tom inserted the tip of his flushed cock into his ass with a groan. He was already slick and gaping slightly, he must've had some time to himself that morning, knowing they'd be having a rendezvous. This spurred the older man on something awful. Charles was reduced to a whining mess underneath of him, clutching his chest with his long, boney fingers, swearing in French words that Tom didn't know the meanings of despite how many times he'd heard them. He bottomed out in no time. 

Then it was a short-lived moment of silence between them of just their breaths before Tom was slamming his hips into his. Tom had been with men and women. He'd never been able to do this with a girl. 

Their moments of ecstacies came quick and hard, knocking the breath out of Tom who was reaching his older years. Tom came messily, filling up Charles's asshole with his thick load. Charles spattered his own chest. It was one of the reasons he always took his shirt off during these encounters. 

"You're getting old," Charles laughed, throwing his head back in pleasure as Tom pulled out, letting his hole gush. 

"I'm only forty-nine," he said, kissing his neck gently. 

"I'm only thirty," he said. "Come, let's clean up and go to your house. It's Friday." 


	2. In Pain, Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secretary, Chloe Nguyen, finds the security footage of the night prior. The night where Charles and Tom had a bit of a sexcapade in the office. Then Nancy Stewart, the principal, finds Chloe enjoying herself a little too much while finishing up some paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real lesbian content. ;) I'm sorry this story skips around from person to person so much, but it wont get any better. lol

Miss Nguyen pushed her glasses further up her nose, ever typing and ever thinking. She had work to do, and this was Saturday. She was annoyed with herself for falling behind. 

This was not, however, her etiquette, though she would try to deny it. She was annoyed because of one thing - the fact that she could not be home to have her me time. This was Saturday, her day off, and instead of spending it taking a selfcare day, she was spending it alone in her small office in a school of all places. She was not even grading papers like she heard the teachers do so often on days off. But of course parent-teacher had to go and mess it all up for her. 

She needed more coffee. 

Chloe was the secretary for Miss Stewart, or, as Chloe called her, Miss Nancy. Thinking back, she couldn't remember a time when she actually addressed her by her full name. That was because Nancy never made her. Nancy was a striking personality, perfect to be a principal. Chloe was the nervous type. Contrast. Contrast was good, Nancy always said to her. Perhaps she needed a bit of contrast in her routine. 

She turned to the large monitor beside her, the one attached to all of the security cameras in the school. She paused. 

Was she really going to go snooping around the security footage? 

She took a moment to think things through, and as worry started to wrack her mind, she put in the school password and went ahead with her devious scheme anyway. There were fewer hours between the last time a teacher was in the building until then than she had expected. For whatever reason, three teachers had stuck around late the night prior. She rewound until eleven P.M. Friday night. 

There was no audio, but she didn't need it to know what Mister Wade and Monsieur Gérard we're doing. Despite how obvious it was that they were fucking, it still took Chloe almost an entire minute for the gears to finally turn into place and click. She squinted at the screen. Then she gasped and shut the monitor off. 

She couldn't believe it. Gérard and Wade were sleeping together? The computer was still on, regardless of the monitor. Chloe turned it on slowly, curiously trickling it. They went at it for several minutes up against his desk. Mister Wade pulled Monsieur Gérard's hair, and Monsieur Gérard spilled a cream coloured liquid all over his own chest. 

Chloe suddenly squeezed her legs shut. A sudden rush of arousal was coursing through her veins, warming her blood until she felt wet, dripping into her lace panties. They were grey, she knew they'd be visibly darker now. She was tingling under her skirt. 

Maybe a little bit of me time in the office wouldn't be so bad. 

These were her thoughts as she slipped her hand up her skirt. The screen almost seemed alive with the movement of their actions. She kept rewinding the tape like she would die without it, she slid her hand down the front of her panties and her thumb slipped over her wet button. She felt obscene as she dove her thumb further into her sweet, feminine heat. It was delicious. The sound was fairly audible too, the sound of suction from her sweet juices filled the room. 

Then someone on the tape cleared their throat. It made Chloe jump a little, and she looked around to mute the computer. Nothing happened. The computer was already muted. 

"Miss Chloe," said a somewhat stern voice. 

Chloe jumped. "Miss Nancy!" she exclaimed as she covered herself, too embarrassed to properly meet the raven's gaze. 

"Having a little too much fun at work, are we?" Nancy said. 

Chloe blinked a few times as if she could not believe what was happening. "I'm sorry, I was watching the tapes and-" 

Nancy's eyes were different colours, one brown, one blue, but she could not deny the feelings she got from both of them, being the same. Affection. 

No, it was deeper than that. It was primordial lust at its roots. Her eyes were nearly on fire, it reminded her of the eye of Sauron. Nancy's eyes were so sharp and witty they could cut you if you weren't careful, she was like a witch. She had a way for getting her male students to bend to her will. She kept things in order. 

And Chloe knew what would happen if she couldn't. She'd seen it only a couple of times, it had been… attractive, to say the least. 

To think of what she might do to Chloe now… 

Her breath caught in her throat, but Nancy cut in. "Getting up to all the fun without me? Miss Chloe, that's not very ladylike, darling. Why don't you come here and sit on my lap?" 

Chloe was not a very big woman, only about five feet, and Nancy was tall for a woman even  _ without  _ her highheels. Highheels that were almost definitely used for sex. 

Now Chloe had less doubts. 

"Miss Nancy, is this allowed?" she asked im a trembling voice. 

"You saw what they did on the tapes, didn't you? Wouldn't I be angry if they were not permitted to do so? And do you think anyone would be brave enough to try and fire me?" 

Nancy had good points. 

Chloe was shaking as she sat carefully on Nancy's knee. She got herself nice and spread out for her, though these were instincts. Chloe was a virgin. 

"You seem very nervous. Are you alright with this?" Nancy rested her hand on Chloe's shoulder. 

She nodded. "Yeah, I've just never done this before." 

Her legs were instinctively closing - or attempting to as she was spread open, and Nancy wondered how such a sweet little thing like her could be a virgin still. 

"You haven't?" she asked in a teasing voice. "Well, we'll just have to make it as enjoyable as possible. We could do whatever you'd like," she said. 

"I want to do whatever you want to do," she said passively. 

Chloe's insides were burning with lust, but she couldn't help it. This was all new territory for her - and with a girl? This was almost too much for her to take in. Of course she'd always known she liked girls too, but never in her life did she expect to actually do anything about it. Pornography was one thing that she'd never admit to, lesbian pornography was certainly off the table. 

"Why don't we start by taking those little panties of yours off?" she said softly, teasing her hips gently with touches of her fingertips. 

Chloe obliged, and Nancy got to work on her clit. This of course made her jump. She was rather sensitive in all manners, especially sexual ones, where she had never even had an orgasm. yes 

"Please, Miss Nancy, it feels like-" Chloe stammered, hugging the taller woman right. 

"What does it feel like?" she teased. "Tell me what's going on." 

"I feel like I'm burning," she said after much hesitation.

"Is that so?" she said, biting at her neck causing her to jump and cry out. 

"That hurt," she whimpered, but then, "Again, please?" 

"Of course, dear," she murmured, leaving hickey after hickey after hickey. 

"Oh, please, I'm gonna," she whined, but as soon as the words fell off her lips, she toppled over the edge for the very first time, leaving herself breathless and weak.

Nancy cradled her protectively in her arms as the young woman became pliant, like putty. She nearly melted into her, Nancy was certain. 

"That was an awfully pretty sight, Miss Chloe." Nancy twirled Chloe's light brown hair and took in her scent. It smelled like feminine slick, and her perfume. Perhaps incense. Lavender for sure. 

"Nancy, what if someone finds out? I won't get fired, will I? I liked this too much not to ever do it again…" she stammered, resting her head on Nancy's supple chest. 

"You don't worry about that. Let's get you cleaned up now, darling. We wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, would we?" she teased, but there was real affection behind her words that was nearly tangible. 

"Alright," Chloe said. "But can I stay like this for a second?" 

"Yes, dear." 


	3. The Scarab Pendant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course I'm introducing more characters, lol. More to come in later chapters. Mostly just introspection but a little bit of porn at the end where he jerks off.

The one time he didn't have to think was around Kayla. She was an average build, bordering on a little chubby, soft around the edges. Perfect for him to squeeze. She encouraged him to be at ease around her even when she wasn't saying anything at all. 

But he still did think. Even when they were having sex. He wanted to maximize pleasure, and thus he calculated everything, right down to the timing of his thrusts. He counted the thrumming he could hear in her chest. Wasn't he supposed to get lost in sex? But he was like machinery. And he enjoyed it that way on the surface. 

But then she would run her fingers through his auburn hair and smile softly, reassuringly, and all of his thoughts would melt away. 

"Hannibal, you're doin' such a good job, baby," she would say in her sweet and raspy voice. 

It was like he became a child again, gazing into her warm, green eyes with childlike wonder. As if she was a fascinating butterfly. 

If she were a butterfly, he mused while he spoke to his class on autopilot, he would never ever let her go. He had taught this class perhaps fifty times. He was exactly forty years old, and had been working as a teacher since he was twenty one. 

He had graduated with perfect marks. He could skip to years of university. 

He'd taught the lesson several times. He was teaching a class of freshmen about genetic mutation, specifically the mutation between cells during mitosis. If a cell split, the next generation could have a genetic mutation. For humans, this meant anomalies, like a rare hair or eye colour. 

Green eyes. Green eyes like the isles he knew her family was long ago from. It was an odd thing, mutation. How was it that she had such light orange hair? It reminded him of saffron, a spice he had never used but knew was expensive from seeing it in markets. And her green eyes, so pretty, so warm. How could a cool colour become so warm. Her eyes were bordering on hazel.

His own eyes were hazel, but it was a different tone altogether. No, he told himself. That didn't make any sense. How could the same colour seem different? Perhaps it was her pale, freckled skin in contrast to his much darker, tan skin. There must have been a scientific explanation. 

The bell rang and freshmen filed out of the class. He had talked on for too long. How unprofessional. 

He sat down at his little desk and began to form his lesson plan for the next week. It was absent minded. He was on autopilot. 

"Brother, do you ever take a break?" Emma said. 

He glanced up at his sister, Emma Kaphiri, and nearly smiled. "There is no need to do that, it's only lunchtime. I can eat when I get home." 

"Brother," she repeated as he went back to work. 

"Yes?" He put his pen down. 

"You're overworking yourself." 

"I'm not. There are less than two weeks until exams, there are things that must be done." 

His twin was tall, almost as tall as he was, six feet nearly when she was wearing heels. Her own red hair was deep maroon, long. They looked too similar sometimes, he thought. Did he look feminine? 

No, it wasn't that. It was the way that they both moved, slowly and serene, graceful. They seemed to both glide through the air as they stepped, moving silently and swiftly. 

"Kayla will get worried," she said, raising an eyebrow. 

"She did a funny thing, actually," he said, avoiding the entire topic of making her upset. "She bought a scarab pendant." 

She laughed, the lovely sound of it ringing out. "Why did she do that? She knows that we aren't all traditional and all of that." 

"That's what I told her. But she insisted upon wearing it, she said I seemed mystical to her. She said it reminds her of my voice," he said. 

"Oh, she must mean your Egyptian accent," she laughed. "I'm surprised she can even tell. Neither of us have one anymore, really."

"I know. I don't talk that much around her." 

They again fell silent. Hannibal remained working and Emma watched him work, occasionally shaking her head once or twice to show her disapproval. But Hannibal's mind was far, far away, thinking about Kayla. Kayla had known he was Egyptian the moment they met, despite the fact that he didn't seem stereotypically Egyptian. She told him she used to have a teacher from Egypt, and he'd had just his accent. He told her he was a teacher. She was a guidance teacher. 

They met because Kayla dropped her ice cream cone while babysitting a little girl, and Hannibal, nimble as ever, caught it mere centimetres from the ground. She offered him ice cream. He would not let her buy him ice cream, but after insisting, he allowed her to buy him a cup of tea.

He remembered the way she looked at him, with this mischievous glint in her green eyes. He remembered that was the first time he ever really experienced true lust. Not for the way her body looked, for it was entirely covered. It was autumn and she was wearing a turtleneck. He could remember it so vividly. 

He remembered the way he wrapped his hand around his cock when he got home that night. He could vividly imagine the image of her undressed, hair pinned back in those western braids, taking him in her mouth, whispering such sweet things to him in her raspy, gentle voice… 

A sudden rush of blood reminded him that - right - he had things to do and places to be on his lunch break. 

He slipped off to the bathroom and shuffled off his pants, leaning up against the stall wall. He licked a strip down his hand. It was not for pleasure, simply to avoid chafing. His erection was a bother and not something he enjoyed dealing with. 

"When you feel like that, just remember when we do it," he remembered Kayla saying, nipping at his ear during one of their first lovemaking sessions. 

Suddenly a little groan slipped out from his lips. That was unusual for him, he mused. She made him feel so safe, like he could tell her anything. He wondered occasionally if they would ever break up, if she would ever get tired of him. But now, when his hand was full of his balls and shaft, it was hard for him to think of those things steadily. Those thoughts faded away and he could almost hear her voice, telling him what to do, how to touch himself. 

"Run your thumb down the side like that, atta boy," she'd say. "Now your lil' balls, just like that." 

She would walk him through the whole process, start to finish. If he was good she would help him out herself. He would never, ever ask for that, though he desired so earnestly. 

_ Yes… _ his mind hissed, reveling in the pleasant thoughts and memories, a single drop of pre-come rolling from his tip. 

"Why don't you play with the slit a lil' more," she'd say, pressing slow, sensual kisses to his thighs. 

"Please, I'll come if you do that anymore," he would gasp, and she would nibble at his shaft, causing him to spill all over her face. 

In his case then it would be all over his own hand. Not as good as her mouth, but almost with the mental image of her instructing him what to do. 

He had forgotten to grab a napkin, he mused as he tidied himself up. Kayla would never forget. 

**Author's Note:**

> I need to put this story on a hiatus for right now. I have a lot of other projects I'm doing and I want to be able to provide the very best content for people. I just can't do that while I've been overworking myself. It's just not the right time for this story I think.


End file.
